Altered Destinies
by Diary
Summary: Re-posted. Warning: contains character death and morally ambiguous protagonists. L dies earlier than he did in canon. Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

...

Matt holds his arms out.

Roger carefully picks the redhead up and sighs. "Eventually, everything will be alright," he murmurs, stroking Matt's back. "But I won't lie. Things are going to get worse before they get better."

...

The church is new and airy. A priest sees Near come in and walks over, temporarily abandoning his laptop. He takes the umbrella, for protection against the sun, and looks to where Mello is, giving a sympathetic look as he does so. Near walks over to where the other boy is kneeling, rosary in his hand, head bowed.

Carefully, he kneels down beside Mello and stares into space, occasionally twirling his hair. He doesn't really understand the concept of deities and souls and sanctuary; Matt is the closest person, the closest thing, Near has ever understood to a safe haven, and even then, Near knows that one day, due to the boy currently soundlessly crying, that will change.

After ten minutes, the priest comes over, picks Near up, sets a pillow on the ground, and wordlessly positions the frail boy so that he's sitting on the back of his legs rather than the position of upright kneeling Mello is in.

An hour later, Mello crosses himself and murmurs something, too low for Near to catch, and then brings the palms of his hand together. Curious, Near crosses himself, too, though he uses his left hand.

Mello stands and briefly swipes at the dried tears on his face. He looks down, and when Near looks up, the strawberry-blond nods. Near stands.

The priest comes over and hands the umbrella back.

As they walk outside, Mello shocks Near by casually clasping his fingers through the albino's. Near is careful not to let his emotions show.

...

At Wammy's, Matt jumps up from his spot in front of the television and runs over to Mello. Mello holds his arms out and hugs his friend, neither letting go.

Near picks up a nearby stray ball and goes to Roger's office.

Looking up from papers, Roger sighs and stands. "Near. I understand that this is a troubling time for us all, but you really need to follow the rules," he says, kindly. "Father Neilson emailed me upon both of your arrivals."

Before Near can reply, there's screaming, and they both rush out of the office.

Everyone is either discreetly watching the struggle or putting on a show of ignoring it. Linda is sitting on a bucking Mello's back, her heels dug into the floor, her hands wrapped around his flailing wrists. "Roger! Melanie! Ro-"

Melanie, one of the teachers, appears and lifts Linda up, speaking softly to the crying girl. Roger immediately grabs Mello, groaning slightly at the weight. "Near, follow," he orders, half-carrying, half-dragging the squirming, kicking, yelling strawberry-blond. "Miss Melanie, please, find Matt and bring him to my office immediately."

"You'll never find him," Mello hisses in such a way that Roger feels a chill go down his spine.

Ida looks up from her tarot cards. "He's in the third closet on the fourth floor; the one by the window. Mello just stuffed his mouth with cotton candy and took the light bulb out before locking him in. Can I have a familiar?"

"We'll discuss it later," Roger promises as he tries to contain Mello and Melanie goes to retrieve Matt.

...

"Mello, I understand that you're hurting very deeply," Roger says, gently. "However, you can't leave Wammy's. You're still a child."

Mello crosses his arms. "Rubi left last month."

"Yes," Roger agrees. "Believe me, if I could have stopped her, I would have. However, she was fifteen, and the law, moronically, in my opinion, will usually rule that a child fifteen and older is responsible enough to not need a guardian."

"There's no point," Mello says, flatly. He ducks before the toy car can hit his head.

"Matt, stop throwing Near's toys," Roger scolds.

"I came here because there was a possibility I could be the next L," Mello continues, ignoring the tears starting to fall. "He hadn't chosen. So, the default choice is the one whose grades are higher, and whose crime-solving skills are better. That's Near."

Near sets his puzzle down, gets up, and walks over to where Mello is standing. He retrieves a chocolate-flavoured sucker from his pyjamas and holds it out to Mello. "L said he would probably decide when we were both past the age of nineteen," Near reminds him. "Therefore, the best way for Mello to honour L's legacy is to wait until I turn twenty. Then, his successor can be decided by Mister Wammy."

For a moment, the atmosphere is tense. Roger gets up and discreetly edges closer to the two. Matt looks down at the ball in his hands.

Then, Mello slumps and accepts the sucker. "Fine. I'll stay." Looking at Roger, he says, "I promise. Now, I'm going to go pray. Don't let anyone bother me."

He leaves the room.

...

"How are you doing," Roger asks, kissing Quillsh as he lies down on the bed.

Sighing, Quillsh puts his hand over Roger's heart. "I always knew this day would come," he murmurs. "But I didn't- I'm," he sighs and closes his eyes.

Roger strokes his back, looking up at the ceiling.

L is dead. Curious, lover of sweets L, who loved solving crimes and teasing. L, who was so full of life and determination. He's still just a child in Roger's eyes.

Roger never wanted a child. He was a teacher, and he loved his students. However, no sum of money could have convinced him to be a parent.

Then, there was Quillsh, kind, funny Quillsh who he loved discussing, or more accurately, arguing politics with. He stole Roger's heart, and then, there was L, stubborn, arrogant, and scornful of Roger. He challenged, challenged, and kept pushing.

Subtly, so subtly Roger didn't even realise it, L began to treat Roger like a family member. In turn, Roger started comforting the boy on cases involving murder and rape, started playing games with him, started to truly talk to him, and frequently acted as a negotiator when he and Quillsh butted heads.

Now, he's gone, and how is Roger supposed to just go on with his life?

In the morning, Quillsh says, "I want them both to take over. L, if he had had a true partner, someone with similar skills and intellect, there's a good chance he would have survived."

"How," Roger asks, quietly. "Near's asked before why he and Mello can't be L together, but Mello-"

"We'll think of something. I want them to hone their skills and become better, but I don't want them competing against one another."

"I agree," Roger assures him, sincerely. "I'm just at a loss on how to accomplish that. Mello is just so filled with anger, determination, and the youthful conviction in absolutes."

...

A month later, Mello stops spending every free moment either at the church or in his room praying. He starts eating regularly and playing with Matt, again. His interest in solving cases is rekindled.

Roger and Quillsh call him and Near into the office.

Quillsh sighs and looks down at his tea. "I love L," he begins. "But the truth is: He was nowhere near as good as he could have been. Solving major crimes usually requires the appropriate social skills. It requires being able to work with people who are either significantly less intelligent or more than yourself."

"Roger has agreed to my request that, from now on, the two of you will work on every school project assigned. If one of you wants to bring another student in, as long as the other consents, that's fine. Of course, test grades and cases individually solved will be factored, but when L remerges, law enforcement will hopefully be persuaded to rethink their opinion of his arrogance and contempt for them."

"L wasn't contemptuous of law enforcement," Mello protests. "Or at least, not honest, hard-working law enforcement."

"No, but he certainly gave that impression," Quillsh answers, kindly. "I realise the two of you have had issues in the past. You both must learn to work courteously and professionally with people you have personal differences with."

"Alright, sounds good," Near says, not looking up from his colouring book.

For a long moment, Mello sits, silently, his jaws clenched. Then, he gets up from the couch and sits in front of Near on the floor. He sticks his hand out.

Near looks up and shakes Mello's hand. "Agreed," Mello says, sullenly.

...

Matt comes into Near's room after Quillsh's announcement and ruffles the albino's hair. "We're finally going to be a trio," he says, cheerfully.

"Only for a few years," Near replies as Matt settles on the stuffed chair and withdraws a game-boy. "Once one of us is chosen, Mello will cease contact with me."

"I have a feeling things are going to change," Matt says, his voice still cheerful. At Near's scoff, he amends, "Eventually. Mello hates it, but when he's proven wrong, he'll admit it. Wanna play Phoenix Wright later?"

"Yes."

...

Mello stares.

Near is in a black suit with a white shirt, black bowtie, and black dress shoes. He looks like a bleached, life-sized doll.

"I'm assuming that there's a reason you're standing outside my room," Mello finally says. "I'm also assuming that there's some reason you aren't in your pyjamas. So, do I even want to ask?"

"I wish to attend Mass with Mello."

For a moment, Mello simply stares. Then, tentatively, he reaches out and touches Near's forehead with his wrist. "Stick your tongue out," he orders.

Near complies.

Ascertaining that Near doesn't have a fever, and deliberately not letting himself wonder where Near got a suit, Mello shakes his head and wonders if he should take Near to the infirmary. After all, there are many other medical conditions besides fevers that can cause out-of-character behaviour.

"I'm not ill, Mello," Near says.

Mello hates it when Near does that. "You're not going with me. If you've suddenly developed an interest in Christianity, which, I'm sceptical of, I'm morally obliged not to discourage it, but I don't have any moral compulsion to help facilitate it. Tell Roger you want to go, and he'll get someone to take you."

"I have an interest in Mello's beliefs," Near says, twirling his hair. "To work together, Mello and I must understand certain things about the other."

The strawberry-blond glares. "I'll always do what's needed, Near. No matter what. My faith won't get in the way."

"Mello isn't listening," Near says, patiently. "I'm not questioning your limits. I simply wish to better understand Mello as a person."

Mello looks at his watch in irritation. "If I take you, you aren't to play with any toys," he warns. "And I don't care if you ask questions, but you can't do it during the service."

"Agreed."

"And you can't receive communion. Did you eat already?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Mello grudgingly agrees.

...

Father Neilson smiles when he sees Near. "Ah, you bought your friend," he says to Mello. To Near, "I'm Father Neilson. Are you Catholic?"

"This is Near," Mello says, curtly. "He's not my friend, and he's an atheist."

"Agnostic," Near corrects.

"Whatever."

"Mello," the priest scolds. "Well, Near, if you have any questions please feel free to ask after the service." He hands each a booklet. "This is a Missal; it's an outline of today's service and contains all the prayers and responses. If you wish to remain seated the whole time, that's fine."

...

Near watches as Mello genuflects before sitting in the pew.

Mello is such a dominant individual; it's always puzzled Near how he can not only be so submissive in one area of his life but also take pride in it. There's nothing shameful about submissiveness, of course. Near himself often does whatever someone tells him to without thought. It's just that Mello usually take such pride in his dominance.

They sit, and Mello sighs and grits his teeth at Near's position; the younger boy isn't squatting, thank goodness for small miracles, but he does have his knees against his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

Near alternates between reading the missal and observing. His fingers often go to his hair.

At one point, people start leaving the pews. "Stay," Mello whispers. He gets in line. Near sees he isn't the only person staying in a pew.

Most of people in line kneel when they get to the priest, and he places a piece of bread either in their hands or on their tongue. Then, they cross themselves. Some, however, cross their arms over their chest, and the priest performs what Near assumes is a blessing.

When it's Mello's turn, Near is surprised to see that instead of bowing, the strawberry-blond crosses his arms over his chest.

...

After it's over, the priest comes over to them. "Did you enjoy Mass, Near?"

"It was long," Near notes. "But interesting, Mister Neilson."

"It's 'Father'," Mello hisses.

The priest laughs. "Mello, be nice to your friend. There's nothing wrong with 'Mister'."

"He's not my friend!"

"Mello-"

Mello growls. "Excuse us, Father, but we have to get back to Wammy's."

Nodding, the priest lets it go, leans down, and hugs Mello. "Be nice, Mello. And if Near has any questions, answer them patiently."

"Yes, Father," Mello answers, grudgingly.

...

As they walk back to Wammy's, Near says, "Mello didn't eat the bread."

Mello rolls his eyes. "It's not bread; it's the Eucharist, the body of Christ."

Near considers that for a moment.

"And it's not cannibalism," Mello snaps when he sees Near is about to say something. "His body isn't truly and fully human."

"Why didn't Mello eat the body?"

"Communion should only be received under certain circumstances; I wasn't worthy today."

They walk quietly until Mello asks, "Where'd you get that suit?"

"I told Matt I wished to attend Mass with Mello; he produced this and told me to wear it."

"He's dead," Mello mutters.

...

"Ow," Matt exclaims, rubbing his head. Looking back up and seeing the TV screen, he growls, turns, and throws a pillow at Mello. "Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get to level nine, man? It's gonna take me forever to get back."

"Stop trying to help Near take me down," Mello says, biting into a chocolate bar.

Matt rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't, but y'know, your trust warms my heart," he says, calmly. "I'm trying to help you. Watari said that the next L is probably whoever has the best ability to work with others. Right now, that's Near. Sorry, Mello, but Near is putting a more effort into that than you are. And so far, he's been doing it with absolutely no help from me!"

"Shut up, Matt," Mello grumbles, sliding onto the couch as he opens another chocolate bar.

...

There's a knock on Near's door.

"Come in," he calls, carefully stacking the checker pieces together. "Mello," he says, somewhat wearily, when the door opens.

Mello sits down in front of him, setting a bag of chocolate cookies next to him. "I despise you, Near, but we both want to preserve L's legacy. So, if you're willing, I'll start trying to truly work with you."

"Yes," Near agrees. "When was Mello baptised?"

Leaning back, Mello takes out a cookie and says, "About a year ago when I first turned eight. Seven is the age of reason, which is when most children not baptised as babies undergo baptism, but until I was eight, I never had any real faith."

"Mello should be L with me."

"No."

...

"You're not helping," Mello says in exasperation.

Near continues rearranging the marbles. "I am attempting to. Mello is being unclear as to what he wants."

"What I want to know is why you place priority on a murder case over of a rape case."

"The law places-"

"And you agree with it. Why?"

The albino looks up. "A life is lost. Mello considers a loss of sexual purity worse than that?"

Mello growls. "Sexual purity is an idiotic concept. And don't you dare tell Father Neilson I said that."

"I have no reason to share our discussions with him."

Taking a bite of his chocolate cake, Mello says, "If you kill someone, they're gone. The killer can't hurt them anymore. It's a temporary violation. But rape, taking such extreme control of another person's body, it's not temporary. The physical act may be, but unless the victim blocks the memory, the mental violation doesn't end quickly. Sometimes, it never does. And even in the case of blocking, that's still a violation. A person deserves to be able to access their memory without whatever would happen if the memory wasn't blocked happening." He pauses. "That last sentence didn't make sense."

"It did," Near corrects. "I can respect Mello's reasoning, but to me, the life taken and the people severely harmed by the loss of the life are a greater violation than sexual assault. A person can still live, and the people who love them can still have contact with them."

Shaking his head, Mello stands. "My game's about to start. Science project when it's over?"

"Yes. I hope Mello wins."

...

Near doesn't react when Mello throws the last book across the room.

Carefully, he places a card face down.

_Thump._

That was a basketball.

_Crash._

That was an empty cage, made of plastic.

_Dink._

A bag of marbles.

Near lifts a card. Frowning, he reshuffles and begins laying them down, again.

_Bam._

That was a jack-in-the-box.

_Shatter._

That was a lamp. Near will need to have the glass cleaned up before one of Linda's pet rats invades his room, again.

_Whump._

That was a pillow.

_Whump._

That was the sheets.

_Thump._

That was Mello's right shoe.

_Thump._

And his left.

Thankfully, Matt had removed the television, DVR player, laptop, camera, and all DVDs containing evidence earlier.

Near stands and turns. He walks over and stands in front of Mello, who looks down at him, eyes blazing, and tears falling.

Logically, he knows that touching Mello would only cause more problems. "Don't be rash, Mello," he says.

"That," choice words, words that Near hasn't heard from Mello since a neo-Nazi had moved in across the street, "is killing people; be calm, Mello. You're just a child, not even a teenager. You can't do anything. Let the police handle it. This-this thing isn't something history has ever seen; the police can't stop it."

He takes a deep breath, and Near feels the rare feeling of fear wash over him. Mello's eyes are clear, his body relaxed; that is not a good sign. It's the equivalent to the eye of the storm, the calm before the worst comes.

"L would already be in Japan," Mello says, his voice catching. "Try and stop me, Near. But either I go down, or that monster does. Maybe both."

"I don't disagree; this Kira should be stopped," Near says, following Mello. "But what will Mello do? Go to Japan, find a way to track them down, kill them? Have them arrested? No one knows how he or she kills. We might know where they're located, but we might be completely wrong. You have no workable plan."

"Not my fault; if Watari and Roger hadn't forbidden us to get involved we could've found out more."

Of course, being forbidden hadn't stopped Mello, Matt, and Near from getting involved. The trio had simply ignored such instructions and done a lot of research, submitting anonymous tips of their findings to Interpol.

"Mello will get himself killed. All you can do is shot a gun."

They enter the strawberry-blond's room. "L knew how to handle loads of weapons when he was younger than us," Mello says, opening his closet. "It's not my fault he died, Near, and it's not my fault that Watari and Roger have lost sight of providing justice. The world doesn't stop just because a hero falls. Evil sure as frell doesn't stop."

He opens a trapdoor. "Protecting us is selfish and idiotic. May take a long time, but eventually, another L, another me, another Matt, and another you will rise. And die, and rise, again. It's a cycle; the kind that only God can stop."

"Frell?"

"Farscape," Mello says, dismissively, his head disappearing into the trapdoor. "Technically, it means sexual intercourse, but it sounds a lot like the devil's house, so, I chose to use it like that instead."

Near walks over, twirling his hair. "You can no longer be stopped if you leave." That's true. Mello is one of the strongest people at Wammy's, one of the best escape artists, and as proven from the games of hide-and-seek the others sometime coax him into playing, he's very good at not being found when he wants to. "But Mello needs to consider what this will do. If Mello dies, too, Watari may permanently retire L."

"He can't," Mello says, reappearing. He jumps slightly at realising Near's proximity but just rolls his eyes and stands, closing the trapdoor with his foot. In his hands is a large bag, a few wrapped presents sticking out. "L is justice, and justice can't be retired. Besides, if I don't succeed, you can still be L one day, no matter what Watari or Roger says. I've seen you break rules; I've seen your cunning side. You follow rules a lot, Near. But only because you choose to. If you wanted to, you could be even worse than Kira." He grits his teeth. "And you could be better than L was."

He sets the items on his bed.

Near climbs up onto the bed. "I want Mello and me to be L together."

"Well, let's see if I can stop Kira, first," Mello says. "Never thought I'd say this, but: I hope to see you, again, Near."

Carefully, Near stands on the bed. Then, he leans forward and kisses Mello's lips. It's simple, fast, and very chaste, no tongue or closed eyes, but Near suddenly has a little more empathy for people who do stupid things when sex is part of the equation.

For a few minutes, Mello simply stares at him, his face neutral. However, his eyes are very expressive, showing how hard he's trying to figure out what just happened, why it did, and what he's supposed to do.

Finally, he gently pushes Near into a sitting position. He withdraws his rosary from a pocket and holds it out. Near takes it.

"Take care of it; I'll try to come back," Mello says, quietly. He briefly puts two fingers on Near's forehead, and then, he turns and leaves.

...

Matt looks up from his laptop. He closes it when he sees Near's face.

Near's always been extremely pale; he's an albino, after all. Near's albinism, large, black eyes, and short, underweight body has, compared to others, in and out of Wammy, always made him strange looking. However, until now, he's never looked like a ghost.

...

Merrie raises her eyebrow.

It's three a.m., she's still slightly drunk from last night, and there's a kid sitting on her living room floor. She really needs to invest in a couch, or at least, a chair.

"Sorry," the kid says, quietly, his head down. He has some kind of accent. Then, he looks up. He doesn't immediately look back down or show any sort of reaction to her bare breasts.

The kid, if not for his voice, comes off as very gender-ambiguous, with strawberry-blond hair in a swing, a neutrally shaped, and a thin, athletic build. Even his clothes are something that either gender could wear without looking out of place. "L's dead; three years ago. I was one of his protégés."

Well, that explains why she stopped receiving fudge-coated gummy bears every December 19. In addition, since the kid is from England, where publicly bare female chests aren't largely taboo, that explains his complete non-reaction. If it weren't for her big sister, Merrie would have moved there or to Canada a long time ago simply for that reason.

Remembering the messages laced with very colourful language she's been sending him for the past six months, determined to get him to bring her in on the Kira case, Merrie feels a tinge of guilt. "Mello, Near, or BB," she inquires.

He looks at her in surprise. "L told you about us?"

"A little." Alternatively, she might have temporarily stolen and read a letter addressed to L. The letter mentioned three children, referred to as 'your potential successors', no gender-pronouns assigned to any of them. Mello missed L and threw a fit when only allowed two pieces of chocolate cake after supper. Near kept playing with toys all night instead of sleeping and wanted to be Mello's partner in social studies. BB intentionally killed a cat, again.

"I'm Mello," he says, standing and holding out his hand.

"L always called me Wedy," she says, shaking it. "Follow me."

In the kitchen, she pours him a cup of chocolate milk, a beverage she can't stand but her older sister adores, and a cup of water for herself. "Are you going after Kira?" She gets some aspirin from the cabinet, takes two, and sits down in front of him.

"Yes. I was wondering if you'd help me."

"Do you know what I do for a living?"

"Art thief; main method is to hack your target's computer system," Mello answers, voice neutral. "I'm twelve years old."

"Love to," Merrie answers, raising her cup, briefly. "I've got an acquaintance of sorts; he's a conman, his preferred target black widows; he has a bizarre yet very accurate sixth sense about them. Of course, he's completely useless if you want someone to who gets physical. Won't touch a gun, and can't fight to save his life."

"I need all the help I can get, but I can't pay anyone. L left his inheritance to his successor, but he didn't pick a successor, and Watari won't pick one until Near turns twenty."

"Is Near older or younger than you?" She asks, noting that he said when Near turned twenty, not when he did.

"He's a year and a half younger than me. He's ten right now." Mello briefly touches his lips and frowns.

"And he's not after this killer?"

"He's researching Kira at Wammy's."

"What about BB?"

Mello looks down at his milk. His voice obviously very controlled, he answers, "Beyond, his name is Beyond Birthday, tried to commit suicide. BB always said that he could see a person's death. A week before L died, he slit a wrist and stabbed his heart. He's in a coma; the doctors are fairly sure it's permanent."

"I'm sorry," Merrie says, truthfully. She yawns. "Alright, kid. It's three something in the morning. I still have an ungodly amount of alcohol in my system. I'm going to go to bed; I'll probably sleep until three p.m. Then, I promise that I won't drink until after this case is solved. There's an air mattress, sheets, blankets, and pillows in the hallway closet. You can listen to the stereo if you want to; I'm a heavy sleeper. There's money in my purse, and Martin's Deli and Convenience Store is a block away on South Pierce Street; it's open twenty-four/seven. Just do me a favour and leave a note if you leave."

"Thank you."

"No problem. I'll contact Aiber."

Once inside her room, Merrie locks the door and looks down at her sleeping bed partner. "Blast it, Morello," she mutters, slipping off her panties. She sits down and reaches for her cigarettes. "Either we need to stop sleeping together, or we both need to find a therapist so that we can sleep together without needing to get drunk first."

After she finishes her cigarette, Merrie finds a sticky-note and writes instructions to leave through the fire escape and to email her. She digs a pair of handcuffs out of the nightstand and handcuffs herself to him, placing the key on the nightstand and covering it with the note.

...

**Great Pumpkin**: L show?

**Lais of Corinth**: not excately; dead for three years

Morello sighs and leans back. Of course. That kid was destined to die young.

**Lais of Corinth**: one of his protégés showed last night; called Mello, 12 yrs old, probably catholic by the crucifix he wears

**Great Pumpkin**: I feel compelled to comment on how paradoxical it is that you don't bother with capitalization and, in some instances, spelling and proper punctuation, but you do take the time to use diacritical marks.

**Lais of Corinth**: u mean ironic; theres a difference

**Great Pumpkin**: I hate irony; it's the one literary term that kept me from getting a perfect score on my English tests.

**Lais of Corinth**: but supsoably, u got paradoxical right. can't pay us, but wants to stop kira. in or out?

**Great Pumpkin**: In, of course. He does know what we do?

**Lais of Corinth**: yep.

**Lais of Corinth**: don't u have ur son this week

**Great Pumpkin**: Monique is going to kill me. Bye.

**Lais of Corinth**: wait. ill jam the south freeway light and reroute the nixon tower's signal so that cel fones are jamed. get there in 33 minutes, and everything'll fix itself.

**Great Pumpkin**: As per usual, I owe you.

**Great Pumpkin** has signed off.

...

For a minute, Merrie considers saying something.

After all, a chocolate bar, a bowl of chocolate pudding, and a cup of chocolate milk is probably not a healthy breakfast, especially for a child.

She decides against it. Her own breakfast consists of two cigarettes and half a can of diet Dr Pepper. Besides, this kid is getting ready to go up against a supernatural killer; poor nutrition is the least of his worries.

"Aiber will be over in a day or two. He has some family business to attend to first. Do you have a plan?"

"Maybe," Mello says, wiping at his chocolate moustache. "But it might fall under the category of terrorism."

Merrie shrugs. "I've earned the label domestic terrorist for some of the paintings I've stolen."

He cocks his head.

"Doesn't bother me," she says. She lights a cigarette. "I'm good with guns, and I could probably assemble a bomb if I wanted to. But I've never used any weapons to pull off a heist. My conscience is clean on that front."

"Why do you want to stop Kira so badly," Mello asks, curiously. He pours some milk into his pudding.

"I grew up in a pretty segregated town; the black people I saw were usually being thrown in jail. I'm probably more racist than I'd like to admit, but I take a person being killed seriously. It's bad enough that the law is quicker to convict the poor and, in countries like America, the non-white and, by extension, kill the poor and non-white via capital punishment. Now, though, a large number of poor and non-white people, which make up a majority of convicted criminals, are being killed by a supernatural force." She pauses. "Brings forth some pretty unfortunate implications, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," Mello answers, glumly.

"So, why are you so determined to stop Kira?"

"I don't think he, she, or it is God," he answers. "And in most instances, I think only God has the right to take human life."

"Most instances?"

His fingers go to the crucifix hanging from his neck. "The most important thing that L tried to teach us was that absolutes were myths. It took me a long time, but I think I'm finally starting to grasp that." Mello finishes his chocolate bar. "But even with shades of gray, I know that Kira has to be stopped."

He leans back. "Ever designed a computer virus?"

"Of course," Merrie answers.

"There's a strong possibility Kira is somehow involved with law enforcement; after Interpol forced a world-wide media blackout, Japanese criminals were still being killed. Everyone with access to criminal databases has been investigated; or supposedly, they have. What we need is spyware attached to all Japanese criminal databases, undetectable, can get into any computer, no matter what type. Find out who's looking up what, when."

"I can try; never done anything that sophisticated. Got a plan B?"

For a moment, Mello looks like a little kid, lost and scared. Then, he sighs, and he goes back to looking like, kid or not, he can take on the whole world. It vaguely creeps Merrie out, which is probably ironic. When she was twelve, her teachers used to complain that she had this look in her eye. 'Like she's one step away from leading a rebellion and taking over the whole school,' she heard her father informed more than once. It always offended her, because, if she was going to plot a rebellion, she was freaking gonna go for broke and aim for the whole wide world, thank you very much. The dinky little school, divided between fundamentalist, inbred white-trash and idiots who thought they were worth something because their parents gave them enough money to buy a can of soda from the vending machines and filled with teachers who valiantly struggled to stick strictly to legal forms of child abuse, wasn't worth enough to even warrant being in the same sentence with the word 'rebellion'.

"I'm working on it," he says.

"Well, technical support or not, I'm going to be there," she tells him. Before he can protest, she says, "Kid, I'm not some innocent civilian. I'm a thief, and as stated above, I take serial killers, especially supernatural ones, pretty seriously. And while I'm definitely not suicidal, I'm not the type that tries to avoid death at all costs."

Merrie puts out her cigarette and stands. "I'm going to go start working on the virus. If a blond man shows up, ask him who Wedy's favourite painter is. If he answers 'Hans Holbein the Younger' but pronounces Hans phonetically, he's Aiber."

...

Morello stares.

There are two extra children in his apartment.

One is a redheaded teenager wearing goggles, and the other is boy about Davy's age, who may or may not be an albino. The redhead is dangling a watch, and the little boy is on his back, trying to grab the watch.

Davy, who'd grabbed when he'd realised the apartment might not be empty, squirms and starts talking rabidly in French.

Both the boys look up.

The redhead winces. "Oh, sorry, man. In our defence, L never mentioned you had a kid; but again, sorry. Shouldn't have broken in in the first place. Er, we'll just, uh, wait outside."

Finally managing to get free, Davy runs over and extends his hand. "Hello. I am Davy," he says, slowly, his accent heavy.

The little white-haired boy shakes Davy's hand and starts speaking in French. At one point, Morello hears the French word for 'Father'.

"I'm assuming one of you is Near?"

Nodding, the redhead looks at the younger boy, who is politely listening to Davy explain the importance of King Arthur being born in Rome. Davy loves gladiator movies (and Morello doesn't care if he's made into the bad parent, there is absolutely no way Davy will be watching said movies while under Morello's care) and is convinced that the Excalibur-wielding King was a gladiator, never mind all the other differing legends of his origins.

He extends his hand. "And I'm Matt. Usually, I follow Mello, but he didn't even have the decency to tell me he was leaving, and Near's the only one who's willing to look for him. I mean, I could try, but unless the case is tracking an IP address or a playing a video game mystery, I make a really hopeless detective."

Morello sighs. "I'll give the two of you a ride to where Mello's staying. Or where he was staying as of yesterday."

"You've seen him?"

"Not exactly." While Davy, happy at his new found best friend, drags, somewhat literally, Near into the guestroom so that the white-haired boy can prove that saying 'Bloody Mary, I've stolen your son,' five times in front of a mirror won't cause Queen Mary Tudor to appear and kill them, Morello explains the situation to Matt. As he's doing so, he resolves to call Monique and ask her why exactly she felt the need to let Davy watch whatever movie he got that particular urban legend from.

...

"Apartment 3B. Tell Wedy that I'll be back in a day or two," Morello says, pulling into the parking out.

Near continues playing with the building block Davy had given him. "Thank you, Mister Aiber." He says goodbye to Davy in French.

Matt gets out and opens the door, helping Near out. "Yeah, thanks. And again, sorry for breaking in."

...

Mello stares.

Eventually, he takes the rosary Near is holding out.

"I'm not going back."

Matt grins. "We'd've sent Watari if that was our goal." He throws his arms around Mello. "So, what can we do?"

"Wedy," Mello calls, gently detangling himself from Matt. "Can you come out for a minute?"

Wedy comes out, and Mello coughs at the way Matt's face changes. Subtly, he positions himself so that Matt can't turn back around. "Matt, Near, this Wedy. Wedy, the redhead is Matt, and the freaky little kid is Near." He winces as Matt's palm connects to the back of his head.

The white-haired boy twirls his hair. "Hello, Ms Wedy. Mister Aiber told us to inform you he would be back in a day or two."

"Nice to meet you both," Wedy says. "I don't mind if the two of you stay, but you're going to have to share the airbed with Mello. Now, Matt, I've heard about the rerouting of the local theatre you did; I could use your help. Mello, can you go down to the Martin's and get food and whatever else is needed for everyone?"

"No problem," Mello says, pushing Matt towards the bedroom.

"Wait," Matt says, digging his heels in. "Near's a weird vegetarian, remember, and I have to read the ingr-"

"Perfectly capable of reading," Mello replies, cheerfully. "And I know Near's dietary requirements just as well as you," he keeps a tight grip on Matt's shoulder as he opens the door. "Nothing that came from the death of an animal or sea-creature. Now, supernatural serial killer to catch. Wedy will fill you in on plan A." He manages to push Matt through the door and close it.

After a minute, they hear him exclaim, "Wow, is that a..." his voice trails off.

"Matt just gets a little shy around older, intelligent, pretty women," Mello explains at Merrie's puzzled look. He looks down at Near, who is laying stomach-down on the floor, stacking marbles on a building block. "Near, don't let anyone but me and Aiber in."

Near jumps up. "I'll accompany Mello."

Merrie notices he doesn't look at her as he says that.

"No. Stay here and be on the lookout."

"Mello knows I wouldn't be much use if someone unwanted attempted to gain access. On the way to this Martin's, Mello can explain his plan."

She realises that Near uses Mello's name in lieu of 'you'. She wonders if he does that to everyone.

"So you can tear it apart," Mello snaps, angrily.

Merrie decides this would be a good time to step in. "Kids, I don't take orders from anyone. I'm willing to follow whatever sounds-half-decent plan someone comes up with. Don't really care who comes up with it. And this may sound tyrannical but: if the two of you want to argue over the succession to L or who calls the big shots, you can leave my apartment and come back when you're done."

Calmly, Near says, "Mello is being foolish. Our goal is to stop Kira. Being hostile towards me will only retard our progress."

Fists clenched, Mello gives a jerky nod.

...

As they're walking, Mello takes a deep breath. "Thanks," he says. "And I apologise."

"Mello places so much importance on intelligence and grades; I've never understood it."

"I want to be L."

Near twirls his hair. "Mello wants to stop Kira more." Obviously trying to be careful, Near continues, "L wanted to solve puzzles. Matt is happy learning, and one day, creating technology. Mello wants to protect innocents."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've wanted to kill you?"

"Yet, Mello has never raised a hand against me. Or anyone who didn't raise a hand against an innocent first."

"You're forgetting Matt. And I've thought about shooting you," Mello grumbles.

"Matt is your equal."

"Careful, Near."

They stop in front of the store.

Near tugs Mello's shirt. When the strawberry-blond looks down, Near says, "I never said I was above Mello. Only that we are not equals."

...

Matt is going to kill Mello. And possibly Near. But most definitely Mello.

"What about a slice-and-dice? If we take Melissa, known for getting into Macs, and take out the programming to spread via email and combine that with Jesus Loves minus the destructiveness along with-"

"Er," Matt interrupts, tentatively, trying to subtly scoot away from her and her nice perfume-y smell. "In theory, I definitely think something like that could work. But how do we get the viruses we need without damaging the computer?"

Wedy stands and motions for him to follow. She opens her closet door, and Matt gasps.

There are many, many computers and laptops, all with the name of a virus written on top of them.

Kneeling down, Wedy starts going through them. "It's a quirk of mine. Every time there's a new virus out, I buy a new computer and let it get infected."

...

Mello and Near come back bearing food. Matt and Wedy work on creating a new piece of spyware while they start working to come up with a plan B.

Everything is fine until Wedy announces she's ready to go to bed.

"I don't see why I can't sleep in the bathtub," Mello exclaims, annoyed. "Wedy's already said she doesn't have a problem with it." He looks at her for confirmation.

Nodding, Wedy strips off her shirt, causing Matt to quickly spin around. "Sure, kid. It's beyond me to understand why you'd want to, but I don't have a problem with it."

Near looks at Matt, and seeing that the normally talkative redhead isn't going to explain things in his usual way, Near sighs. "Mello is too big to lie in the bathtub."

"Hey, I'm smaller than Wedy."

Wedy grabs a scrunchie and pulls her hair into a loose bun. "Still neutral, but I will point out that I'm too big to lie down in the tub. There's a chance even Near may not be able to lie in it." At Mello's look, she shrugs and says, "I strictly take showers."

"Has Mello thought this through at all?"

Matt clears his throat but doesn't turn around. "I don't get it, Mello. I sleep with you most nights."

"Yeah, you do. But I'm not sleeping with Near."

"Has anyone seen my blue scarf?"

"It's by the breadbox," Matt says, still not turning.

Mello grabs it and hands it to her.

"Thank God I never had any brothers," Merrie says, covering her hair and tying the scarf around her chin. "Goodnight, children."

...

"She can't do that!"

Mello and Near both stare at Matt, the former deliberately keeping a straight face.

Finally, Near breaks the silence. "What can't Miss Wedy do?"

Matt gestures to his chest. "You know, that."

"It's her apartment," Mello points out, withdrawing his rosary. "Wish I had my Bible," he mutters.

"Please, clarify," Near says.

Rolling his eyes, Mello sets a pillow down on the floor. "Matt apparently has some issues with the female breast." Seeing that Near is taking the statement literally, he explains, "Or just with Wedy's."

Near sits down and begins stacking matches. "How are hers any different from the girls at Wammy's or the female joggers in the park we see almost every morning? Physically, of course, there's some difference, but other than that-"

"Shut up, Near," Matt snaps. To Mello, he says, "Look, if you're willing to risk your life to stop Kira, you should be willing to share a bed if you need to. I'll sleep in the middle."

Mello kneels down on the pillow. "I'm going to pray now."

Matt clamps a hand over Near's mouth and drags the albino over to the airbed. "Just try to sleep," he says, quietly, motioning to the side against the wall.

...

Near feels when Matt gets off the bed.

"What's the real problem? Before you left, you'd stopped your whole avoiding Near thing. Now, you're back at it."

"Don't start, Matt. I know I need all the help I can get. I've apologised."

"But you're making a big deal about sleeping in a bed with him."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I really don't want my best friend to try sleeping in a tub or on the floor when there's a perfectly comfortable bed."

Near feels Matt slide in beside him, and then, another weight settles on the bed.

"Here, be still for a minute," Mello whispers to Matt. Then, he huffs, "Idiot savant."

The albino isn't sure if Mello is referring to him or to Matt, but he forgets when he feels hands, Mello's hands, pull a blanket up to his neck.

...

Merrie is out jogging.

Morello is sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee, and watching the unfolding drama with amusement.

"Matt, so help me God, if you don't give me my chocolate-"

"Hey, don't you have some Catholic rule about not falsely swearing oaths on your god's name or something?"

The redhead ducks as the box of matches flies towards him. "It's a Christian commandment, not strictly a Catholic one, and I'd like to know how it is an infidel like you comes closer to understanding the meaning behind the third commandment than most Christians. After, of course, you give me my chocolate!"

"Eat some pizza first; I ordered some hamburger and sausage slices with regular cheese just for us. You have no idea how much it pains me to sound like Roger, but the fact is you do need to eat something besides chocolate."

"I notice you're not telling Aiber or Wedy or Near to eat the pizza."

"I ate a slice of the soy cheese with vegetables while Mello was in the shower."

"Wedy never eats breakfast. And I had banana pancakes at IHOP before I came over."

"Matt, I will ransack the place if I have to, and I will find it!"

"Do that and you'll be living in the hallway," Merrie says, appearing in the doorway. Her nose wrinkles at the smell of coffee. "Your son is gone," she asks Aiber.

"Yes. Took flight eighteen; the stewardess, despite her promise, is probably going to let him watch The Six Wives of Henry VIII."

"Doesn't that have a PG rating?"

"I don't care if it has a G rating," Morello grumbles. "It's about a sociopath who thinks only a son is worth anything, emotionally abuses his wives, kills two of them, and knowingly killed many innocent citizens."

"There," Mello says, sullenly. "I ate a slice. Now give me my chocolate."

"The irony," Merrie murmurs.

Morello shrugs. "I am what I am. Self-loathing is pointless and time-consuming. Doesn't mean I ever want Davy to be anything like me."

"How is the virus progressing," Near asks as Mello happily devours the chocolate Matt produced.

"We've made one that harmlessly sends information directly to Wedy's computer. But it's still dead easy to catch and remove. How's plan B coming?"

Suddenly, Mello's mood changes. It's instant, but everyone feels it.

Near looks at Matt.

"C'mon, Mello," the redhead says, carefully. "You've gotten your chocolate; we're making progress, and Near hasn't done anything but play with spoons so far."

"People are still being killed," Mello says, blinking back tears. "And we're all sitting around, basically doing nothing."

The albino stands, ignoring Matt's silent looks of Don't. He crawls under the table and looks up at Mello. "Does Mello remember what L said? No detective can save everyone. And those who try, who never let themselves have an enjoyable time with no guilt, they make rash mistakes that delay the process even more than taking a break would."

"Right," Mello murmurs. He carefully pushes Near away with one of his feet.

Morello stands and quickly takes the tiny bit of chocolate in front of Mello. "All this sugar and too little sleep are causing a chemical imbalance. Eat another slice of pizza, and then, try to sleep for a few hours," he says, setting a slice of hamburger and sausage pizza in front of the strawberry-blond. "Near, Matt, the two of you need to help make sure he doesn't eat anymore chocolate than he was allowed at Wammy's."

Mello looks up and glares. "You're not in charge."

"That's right," Morello says, cheerfully. "I'm not. I'm not your father, and I'm not a priest. Moreover, I'm definitely not made of the right stuff to lead a group against a supernatural killer. However, I am a father and an adult, and I do know some things you're too young to fully understand. So, just listen to me, yeah?"

Grumpily, Mello eats the pizza while Matt closes the blinds in the living room and turns off the lights.

"Watch him," Matt whispers to Near when Mello goes to lie down.

...

Near lies down on his side of the airbed. "Matt suggested I-"

"Whatever," Mello mutters, pushing some of the blankets closer to the albino.

...

They wake up when the doorbell rings.

At some point, Near had completely submerged under the covers and curled up next to Mello's stomach.

Before they can get up, Merrie appears and opens the door.

...

"Hello, Watari," Merrie says with a sigh.

"Miss Wedy," he answers, kissing her cheek.

"Hey, Watari," Mello says, voice sullen as he sits up. He pulls the blanket of Near, who blearily cracks an eye open. "We've been found."

Near curls up against one of Mello's legs and gropes around for the blanket.

Matt, who had appeared silently at some point, re-covers the albino. "You do realise that taking us back won't do much good, right? I mean, sure, you can probably keep me and Near, but Mello'll just escape, again."

"Roger and I should have realised it was pointless to try to stop the three you," Watari says, entering the apartment. "But after losing L, we wanted to protect you."

"L couldn't be protected from all sickness," Mello says, standing. The blanket covering Near starts moving. "And I don't want to be protected from crime at all costs."

"Near and I really appreciate that," Matt says, dryly.

"Don't speak for you, and sure don't for Near."

"That's where you're wrong," Matt mutters, sitting down next to the covered albino. He sets a hand on the blanket, and it stops moving.

Watari smiles, slightly. "I think the first thing we need to do is find a better place to set up headquarters. It can't be pleasant for Miss Wedy to have three boys running around her apartment." Then, he looks around and frowns. "You three haven't destroyed any furniture, have you?"

"No," Merrie answers. "Despite my profession, I tend to lead a fairly simple life. And it's four boys; Aiber's helping."

Matt lifts the covered albino up and stands. "Where's the car?"

"Nice way to get out of packing," Mello comments.

"Hey, you wanna babysit sleeping Near, I'll gladly pack with no complaints."

...

Headquarters is a three-story house. The second-floor has three bathrooms, several rooms that have been converted into labs, and is full of technology and everything else they need for the investigation. The first floor has a kitchen, a small dining room, three bathrooms, and three bedrooms. The third floor has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a hallway closet.

Wedy has the third floor all to herself, and Mello, Near, and Matt share a bedroom. However, this bedroom has three beds. Bunk beds for Mello and Matt, and a small bed for Near.

"S'kay," Matt tells Watari when the latter apologises. "You didn't even need to bother with the extra beds. I usually sleep with Mello anyways, and Near doesn't mind."

"Correct," Near answers, twirling his hair.

...

"It's a bit disturbing how many people hack into the Japanese criminal database," Matt notes. "Though, it does give our spyware not being caught a lot more plausibility."

Mello doesn't look up from his printout. "The evidence against Yagami Light is getting stronger every day."

"We don't know for sure, though, if it's his computer, his sister's, or his dad's. Even then, there are four people in the house. We can't be sure who's using what computer," Wedy points out, lighting a cigarette.

"Time for the second part of the plan," Watari inquires, handing the strawberry-blond a cup of hot chocolate.

"I vote yes."

"I agree."

"Sounds good."

"I'm in."

"Me, too."

...

Near watches from a pew.

Mello's on his knees, head bowed, rosary in his hand.

The strawberry-blond keeps saying their plan isn't murder; Near doubts Mello will ever believe his own words.

Sighing, Mello crosses himself, and then, gets up and comes over to Near. He sits down.

"Mr Smith wants to die," Mello says, quietly. "He's agreed to this. I honestly don't know how God feels about it, but I don't have the right to tell someone who suffers excruciating pain daily that they don't have a right to quickly end their pain. Especially when there isn't even effective palliative treatment for them."

Near twirls his hair.

Mello always talks to priests and nuns about the complexities of his religious beliefs. He doesn't even share them with Matt, though, that could simply be because Matt has ever shown any real interest in whether or not deities actually exist.

The albino understands that things have significantly changed. Once, Mello refused to speak to him unless it was to insult him. Once, Mello said that he'd always hate Near. Once, he agreed to work with Near but made it clear he was only doing so as a way to stay close to what he considered his enemy and, hopefully, one-day win. Now, Mello is speaking to Near about the things the older boy holds the most dear.

"Mr Smith is going to die whether we go through with the plan or not," Near says, and he knows that he's not saying whatever it is he should say. However, logic is what he's good at, what he can make Mello understand. Statements of 'I respect Mello' and 'I consider Mello a friend' and 'Please, be L with me' have all been said in the past, and Mello has never understood, never tried to. Give Mello illogic, and the older boy will run with it, usually in exactly the wrong direction. Give him logic, and he'll usually run with it.

"We're giving him the ability to accomplish a great feat; something he wouldn't be able to if he simply took a mixed cocktail of drugs. His death will help prevent many more deaths. Deaths of people unfairly convicted; deaths of people who have truly repented and wish to atone; deaths of people who didn't maliciously or knowingly commit the crimes they were convicted of."

"I know; it's just hard to reconcile that with my conscience." Then, Mello says, sincerely, "But thank you for reminding me. I need to hear it. It helps some."

...

They air the recorded tape in the Kanto version of Japan first.

"I can understand the temptation of what you're doing," Lance Smith, claiming to be the elusive detective known by the alias of L, says. "But you are not..."

The phone rings, and Matt holds Mello's hand tighter as Watari answers.

Aiber quickly turns the TV off and hits the stop button.

Near looks at him. The conman shakes his head. "Trust me, kid. It's not healthy to watch a dead man."

Watari hangs up the phone and nods, apologetically. "Mr Smith is dead."

"Let the tape air until it's done. Then, air tape 10," Mello orders. He crosses himself. "And I'm going to pray that Kira really can't kill without a name and a face." He glares at Aiber, who turns on the TV and switches it to the live Japanese broadcast.

There had been a bitter argument over who found record the taunt to Kira, their voice electronically disguised. Everyone had been determined to do it; the first thing the majority had truly united on was that Wedy absolutely would not. She had sharply reminded them that she was no damsel-in-distress and that, logically, she was the person who would be missed the less. She wasn't going to be a detective someday, she didn't have an orphanage to help run, and she didn't have a son. All she had was a grown sister, who had a steady job and stability in a relationship with an engineer.

Then, Near had pointed out that he didn't have any family or close friends and that Mello could be L if he died. Matt had tried to hit him with a book, Mello had tried to lock him in a closet, and everyone else had told them that none of the children would be doing it, glaring at Matt when he tried to make his case anyways. Mello's look had made it clear he would present his own case later.

And that had been the second thing the majority had been united on.

Then, Matt had mentioned Roger, telling Watari that it was bloody obvious, and really, they should be thankful they couldn't marry, or else all the other orphans would tie them up, drag them to Mello's church, and force them to say 'I do' when the priest asked if they took one another. Mello had pointed out that, while he didn't exactly agree, the Catholic church was pretty insistent that homosexual relationships were bad and homosexual marriages were considered an oxymoron. Matt said that they'd drag Roger and Watari to the local courthouse, then, if men were ever allowed to marry other men.

Everyone, besides Watari, agreed that they weren't going to risk Roger losing his significant other, especially after losing L.

It was down to Aiber and Wedy.

She pointed out he had a wife and a son, putting him in the same position as Watari.

Aiber said that he and Monique had married so that they'd automatically inherit all he had if something should happen to him. He also pointed out that Davy saw him once a year and had Monique and her parents and her siblings.

Still, almost everyone had started to agree that Wedy might be the best choice. Near had been silent as long a Mello and Matt were firmly disqualified, and Watari turned out to have a strong sense of chivalry to him.

So, Aiber had challenged Wedy to a game of chess. She had counter-offered with a motorcycle race.

Matt had torn a piece of paper into tiny pieces, coloured one bright blue, and thrown them all into a bowl. He'd found a towel, cut a slit in it, and put it over the bowl.

Aiber drew the blue paper on his sixth turn. Wedy was very sure that someone had somehow cheated. In fact, she still is.

"Hello, Kira. Mr Smith had a terminal disease, a very painful, untreatable one. He volunteered to help, and now, he is dead," the disguised voice says, an unseen translator translating it into Japanese. "We wanted to test you. Can you kill us? Go ahead; kill just one of us. Kill me, the true L. Can you? I'm waiting; we're all waiting." After a minute, the tape continues. "I'm in America, Kira. In Oatmeal, Texas. Will you kill me now? We're all waiting." Another moment of silence. "This tape is still airing. That means you haven't killed any of us. Be seeing you."

The tape ends, and Matt squeezes Mello's hand, sighing. "Now we go to Japan?"

Mello nods and unhooks his heart monitor; if any of them had died, the tape was rigged to immediately stop broadcasting. He crosses himself. "We're putting Yagami Light under intense surveillance." He grabs a nearby chocolate donut and takes a bite.

"I'll get changed," Wedy says, stripping off her shirt as she leaves the room. Mello and Aiber roll their eyes at Watari and Matt, who both quickly look away, the latter turning as red as her hair.

At Mello's look, Matt hisses, "She could, at least, wear a bra."

Near looks as if he's about to say something, and Matt preemptively exclaims, "Oh, shut up. If Mello took off his shirt, you'd react the same way I do when Wedy does it."

"I believe that is incorrect," Near says, looking up. He twirls his hair. "Mello, please remove your shirt."

Instead of taking off his shirt, Mello chases Matt around the house with a laptop.

Watari shakes his head and smiles fondly at Near. "I'm going to pack; stay out of their way."

...

"You need to eat properly," Quillsh scolds over the speakerphone.

"I am officially revoking all of Linda's phone privileges," Roger snaps.

Quillsh can't help the smile he feels spread across his face. "You're getting old, dear one. Linda contacts me by sending text from her computer straight to my cell phone; honestly, I'm still not sure how exactly that works. For someone with all my patents, it's a little disconcerting, honestly."

"Then, I shall immediately confiscate her computer."

"She's worried," Quillsh says, his voice turning serious.

"Yes, I know. Everyone is worried. Not that I'm complaining, but when exactly did our decision to keep our relationship subtle turn into everyone inside Wammy's somehow knowing?"

Closing the suitcase, Quillsh remembers when L flat-lined, how he'd completely lost control and stumbled around blindly, crying. Only when arms encircled him, arms that some part of him instinctively knew to be Roger's, did he settle some, crying and clinging. Eventually, he'd woken up in their bed, Roger sitting in a chair, holding his hand. He imagines Roger being there, giving him the love he needed to stay grounded, was probably when the children began to see there was much more to them than a shared duty of assisting L in cases and running the orphanage.

"Or better yet," Roger continues, "when did the children decide that our relationship, which they know about, not warrant, well, whatever mischievousness usually accompanies such knowledge?"

Remembering Matt's words, Quillsh laughs. Then, he pauses. Thoughtfully, he says, "You know, if England ever legalises homosexual marital unions, you should consider marrying me; I'm not sure Matt would accept our domestic partnership if another option existed." Honestly, Quillsh isn't sure he would be able to accept just that, either.

"There's nothing to consider," Roger says, lightly. "I wouldn't have put up with your ridiculous sock-labelling and cover-kicking for so many years, living in sin, if I didn't think that, the law willing, you'd someday make an honest man out of me. Or perhaps, I'd be making an honest man out of you."

"You freeze insects and wash reds and pinks with whites," Quillsh replies, sitting down. Everything is packed. "Your quirks outweigh mine."

"How many colds have I caught from your kicking the covers away?"

"Once, and that was your own fault for leaving the air conditioner on full blast when it was sixty-two degrees outside."

"Try to come back," Roger says, his voice suddenly very firm.

"You know I will. I love you."

"I love you, too."

...

Once they settle into a Japanese hotel, Watari comes to Near when the youngest boy is alone.

"Near, I have a delicate question to ask you," he starts.

The albino looks up, twirling his hair. "Yagami Light is Kira," he answers before Watari can ask. "L had remarkable instincts; he insisted on solving cases logically, but his instincts were never wrong, were they?"

Watari quietly shakes his head.

"Mello feels it stronger than I do, but the two of us both have remarkable instincts, like L did." He begins stacking cards. "I'll keep this conversation between the two of us," he adds, softly.

"Thank you, Near."

...

Quillsh hesitates.

Yagami Light is young and handsome, arms full of books.

Then, however, images flit through his mind:

Matt playing on a computer, playing with Mello, teaching Near how to play some video game or other.

Near sharing a bowl of strawberries with Matt, covertly following Mello, despite knowing how the strawberry-blond would react if he realised.

Mello playing sports, defending other Wammy's, hugging Matt, sticking his tongue out at Near.

Beyond Birthday eagerly following L's work. Now, he lies in a coma, and if things had been different, perhaps psychiatrists would have eventually helped. Perhaps he would be with Matt, Mello, and Near. Perhaps, a miracle might occur, and he'll wake up, eventually be psychologically helped, and still join them.

L, alive and eating sweets and solving cases, always smiling genuinely when he did.

'You can't protect forever.'

No, he can't. However, he can protect them now.

Raising the gun, he shoots.

"I'm sorry," he whispers as the teenager falls. "But I have a duty to them."

...

"A gun. In Japan."

Near hands Mello a chocolate bar, sparing a brief glance at Watari. "Despite strict enforcement, criminals can still obtain guns if they are clever enough."

"He was a kid, a teenager, and don't get me wrong, if he was Kira, I'm happy he's gone, but what criminal would gun down a teenager? The only option is the police and considering his father-"

"Perhaps Mello's deity sent divine intervention."

Mello just looks at Near for a moment. Finally, he says, "We'll stay in Japan for a month or two. If the killings have stopped by then, I guess we can assume Yagami Light was Kira."

"And if he was," Matt asks, tentatively, looking up from his laptop.

"Then, we go home," Watari interjects, tone kind but firm. "Chief Yagami and Mrs Yagami and their daughter have all lost a very important, irreplaceable part of their lives. If Mister Yagami was indeed Kira, there's no need to contact the Yagamis and tell them that their son, that their daughter's brother, was a serial killer. Let them remember him as the good son, the good brother, the good person that they knew him as."

Aiber scoffs and downs a shot of whiskey.

...

Later that night, Merrie sits down on her bed. "If your son were-"

Morello sighs and throws an arm over his eyes. "Davy's the best kid I know, but he's got my blood running through his veins. If he does grow up to be a bad person, I won't be surprised. My father was a real monster; wife beater, child beater, drunk, never worked a day in his life. Self-loathing is pointless, but it's obvious the son has become the father."

Merrie shifts, uncomfortably. Her sister is panicky and self-conscious, always needing reassurance; she's always been that way, and Merrie has always been, at least, decent about being there for her big sister. However, a sister is a lot different from a man she sometimes works with and sometimes gets drunk with so that they can have sex.

"You beat your wife," Merrie jokes, feeling her stomach twist as she says it.

She believes that Morello and his wife aren't in any sort of romantic or sexual relationship; if she didn't, she wouldn't sleep with him no matter how drunk she got. Really, Merrie didn't feel guilty whenever she fell in bed with a guy who forgot to mention that, by the way, he was cheating; after all, he was the one breaking a promise, not her. Nevertheless, she did try to live her life by the rule of only doing to others what she could handle them doing to her.

She didn't steal from people who owned things; she stole from museums and galleries that had good theft insurance. She donated a good amount of the money she got from stolen paintings to charity, and she always made time for her sister, no matter what. She didn't sleep with men she knew to be in committed relationships.

"Nope," Morello answers. "I've never raised a hand against Monique or Davy; in fact, we both agreed that neither of us would ever us physical punishment of any kind against him. And I'm not actually in big danger of becoming an alcoholic. But I was fired from the only legitimate job I ever had and I do emotionally and financially destroy women. And then, I make a big deal when Davy watches something I consider sexist or something that I feel condones illegal activities which may or may not be ironic but it is something completely screwed up."

"Okay, honestly, I don't know what to say," Merrie says, tiredly. She lies down. "Well, other than: Thank God the Kenwood family line ends with me and Dini; I couldn't handle worrying about a kid of mine or a kid of hers. Though, honestly, she has a better chance at being a decent mother than I do."

"Could I just sleep, strictly sleep, here tonight?"

"Sure," Merrie answers, easily. Her brain, however, disagrees with the easy part and is currently screaming at her. "Just don't blame me if you catch a cold; I tend to steal the covers."

"Never have before," he mutters.

"Things are different when alcohol and sex aren't involved."

...

A week later, there's a small fire at the Yagami house; no one's hurt. Apparently, the deceased teenager had rigged his desk drawer to explode if someone tried to open a very well hidden fake bottom that his sister discovered by complete accident; there was a diary, unused, in the normal part of the drawer. The Yagamis draw the conclusion his real diary was underneath the fake bottom.

A month and a half later, the killings stop.

Three weeks after that, there have still been no more unexplained heart attacks in criminals.

The three criminals and three boys all pack and get ready to leave Japan.

Wedy kisses all of them on the cheek, causing Matt to again turn the same colour as his hair and kick Mello in the chins. Aiber shakes all of their hands and sincerely tells them that it was an honour.

...

"Yes," Merrie asks, opening the door.

The delivery person gives her something to sign, and then, hands over a package.

Inside is a camera obscura.

_Miss Wedy,_

_This camera obscura has been certified to have been made in the sixteenth century. Some historians claim Hans Holbein the Younger owned it; I'm not sure if that's true, but I do know for sure it was made and used during his time period. _

_Thank you for all your help._

_Sincerely,_

_W_

...

Morello looks at the beautiful vase that Monique is sure to love and the leather-bound children's book, all the stories relatively mild and happy, that were both delivered a few minutes ago and smiles.

...

Quillsh wraps his arms around Roger. He still remembers the teenager falling, but he was once a soldier. Light Yagami is one of the many faces he sees.

Roger pulls the other man down to kiss him.

...

Matt sits and plays a video game while Mello and Near sit on the former's bed and develop a plan for the newest case, a bombing on an embassy in China.

Later, Near watches as Mello begins to pray, and Matt slings an arm around him, leading him out of the room. "Give him time, yeah? Let him get used to seeing you as a friend."

Near begins to say something, but Matt silences him with a quirked eyebrow. "Honest truth, man: I think that once Mello figures out some things, things about himself and his faith and how you fit in besides as an enemy, I think the two of you might have a real chance. You understand him in a way that no one else does. And whether he realises it or not, he understands you in a way that no one else does."

"Matt doesn't mind, then? My desire for Mello?"

The redhead scoffs. "Please, if I minded that kind of thing, I wouldn't have rope big enough for two men and a list of gay-friendly judges ready just in case Parliament ever decides to stop being bigoted idiots."

"I wasn't referring to the same-sex part, but I do appreciate that that isn't an issue."

Matt pats him. "Hey, I've always been both of your friends, even when Mello considered you an enemy. No matter what happens between the two of you, I'm never going to let that stop. Personally, I think it would be cool if you two developed that kind of relationship; I wouldn't have to worry that the person my best friends were dating wasn't good enough for them."

Near twirls his hair and nods. "Goodnight, Matt."

"Night, Near."

...

Author's Notes: A camera obscura is a primitive form of a camera.

I think that in the anime and manga both Wedy was simply a thief. For some reason, though, I always found myself thinking she was an art thief. Therefore, I gave her that speciality in this fic. As for Aiber, I don't think that his wife and son were ever named in canon. I gave him a French nationality based on Aiber being in France in, at least, one of the incarnations of his death.


End file.
